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This article is from the Saturday Night Live: Commercial Parodies FAQ, by Doug Krause snl-faq@lido.com with numerous contributions by
others.
08 Jack Handey - Deep Thoughts p5 (Saturday Night Live)
One thing that makes me believe in UFOs is, sometimes I lose stuff.
I guess more bad things have been done in the name of progress than any other.
I myself have been guilty of this. When I was a teen-ager, I stole a car and
drove it out into the desert and set it on fire. When the police showed up, I
just shrugged and said, "Hey, progress."
Boy, did I have a lot to learn.
Sometimes, when I drive across the desert in the middle of the night, with no
other cars around, I start imagining: What if there were no civilization out
there? No cities, no factories, no people? And then I think: No people or
factories? Then who made this car? And this highway? And I get so confused I
have to stick my head out the window into the driving rain - unless there's
lightning, because I could get struck on the head by a bolt.
The difference between a man and a boy is, a boy wants to grow up to be a
fireman, but a man wants to grow up to be a giant monster fireman.
I think the monkeys at the zoo should have to wear sunglasses so they can't
hypnotize you.
Sometimes life seems like a dream, especially when I look down and see that I
forgot to put on my pants.
Love can sweep you off your feet and carry you along in a way you've never
known before. But the ride always ends, and you end up feeling lonely and
bitter.
Wait. It's not love I'm describing. I'm thinking of a monorail.
I wouldn't be surprised if someday some fisherman caught a big shark and cut
it open, and there inside was a whole person. Then they cut the person open,
and in him is a little baby shark. And in the baby shark there isn't a person,
because it would be too small. But there's a little doll or something, like a
Johnny Combat little toy guy - something like that.
I bet it was pretty hard to pick up girls if you had the Black Death.
Sometimes I wish Marta were more loyal to me. Like the other day. The car
parked next to ours had a real dirty windshield; so I wrote THIS CAR LOOKS
LIKE A FART in the dirt. Later I asked Marta if she thought it was a childish
thing to do. She said, "Well, maybe," Man, whose side is she on, anyway?
Sometimes I wonder if I'm sexy enough. When I walk into a singles bar with my
"fashionable" shirt, "fashionable" slacks, and a big new rubber manta-ray
helmet. I can't help wondering: Do women want to talk to me for myself, or do
they just want to get a feel of that nice rubber manta skin?
It's too bad that whole families have to be torn apart by something as simple
as wild dogs.
The land that had nourished him and had borne him fruit now turned against him
and called him a fruit.
Man, I hate land like that.
Life, to me, is like a quiet forest pool, one that needs a direct hit from a
big rock half-buried in the ground. You pull and you pull, but you can't get
the rock out of the ground. So you give it a good kick, but you lose your
balance and go skidding down the hill toward the pool. Then out comes a big
Hawaiian man who was screwing his wife beside the pool because they thought it
was real pretty. He tells you to get out of there, but you start faking it,
like you're talking Hawaiian, and then he gets mad and chases you . . .
It's fascinating to think that all around us there's an invisible world we
can't even see. I'm speaking, of course, of the World of the Invisible Scary
Skeletons.
Whenever I hear the sparrow chirping, watch the woodpecker chirp, catch a
chirping trout, or listen to the sad howl of the chirp rat, I think: Oh boy!
I'm going insane again.
If they have moving sidewalks in the future, when you get on them, I think you
should have to assume sort of a walking shape so as not to frighten the dogs.
He was the kind of man who was not ashamed to show affection. I guess that's
what I hated about him.
I think college administrators should encourage students to urinate on walls
and bushes, because then when students from another college come sniffing
around, they'll know this is someone else's territory.
The next time I have meat and mashed potatoes, I think I'll put a very large
blob of potatoes on my plate with just a little piece of meat. And if someone
asks me why I didn't get more meat, I'll just say, "Oh, you mean this?" and
pull out a big piece of meat from inside the blob of potatoes, where I've
hidden it.
Good magic trick, huh?
I think my new thing will be to try to be a real happy guy. I'll just walk
around being real happy until some jerk says something stupid to me.
If you work on a lobster boat, sneaking up behind people and pinching them is
probably a joke that gets old real fast.
If you want to be the most popular person in your class, whenever the
professor pauses in his lecture, just let out a big snort and say "How do you
figger that!" real loud. Then lean back and sort of smirk.
Too bad Lassie didn't know how to ice skate, because then if she was in
Holland on vacation in winter and someone said "Lassie, go skate for help,"
she could do it.
When you're going up the stairs and you take a step, kick the other leg up
high behind you to keep people from following too close.
If you're ever shipwrecked on a tropical island and you don't know how to
speak the natives' language, just say "Poppy-oomy." I bet it means something.
I wish scientists would come up with an ear of corn that was big and round,
because then when you were eating it, it'd be fun to make chew marks in the
shape of continents.
I wonder if angels believe in ghosts.
I have to laugh when I think of the first cigar, because it was probably just
a bunch of rolled-up tobacco leaves.
I don't understand people who say life is a mystery, because what is it they
want to know?
Instead of studying for finals, what about just going to the Bahamas and
catching some rays? Maybe you'll flunk, but you might have flunked anyway;
that's my point.
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